


Attention

by Sabriel (the_one_a_m_writer)



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, Getting Back Together, wise decisions /s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25535842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_one_a_m_writer/pseuds/Sabriel
Summary: Catra's probably not even going to be at Scorpia's party (Adora reasons, knowing full well that Catra goes to every party Scorpia hosts; knowing full well that she saw Catra's instagram post about getting ready for this particular one).Adora's probably not going to be at Scorpia's party (Catra reasons, correctly, she thinks, because Adora didn't go to parties before they dated).
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Bow/Glimmer (She-Ra)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 101





	Attention

**Author's Note:**

> You know how it is: one day you're gardening and listening to Attention by Charlie Puth, and the next thing you know you've written a whole short fic based on it in one day.  
> When I went to look up Attention to make sure I still had the vibes right, I found instead Attention by Todrick Hall, which is equally applicable to this story (or moreso bc gay).  
> So, if you want a playlist while reading this, I recommend Attention by Charlie Puth and Attention by Todrick Hall.

“Adora, you don’t have to come,” Glimmer repeats for perhaps the fifth time. It’s hopeless at this point; it’s one hour until Bow picks them both up, and Adora’s already wearing her brand-new red dress. She’d wanted Glimmer to curl her hair-- Glimmer had laughed in her face-- Adora had said, “Fine, do my makeup, then,” and Glimmer had. 

She looks good. A light mascara, and just enough highlight to bring out her features. Glimmer had given her a lip gloss, similarly refusing Adora’s request to use her nice Ruby Red lipstick. 

“You’re doing an awful job of convincing me you’re not trying to impress Catra.” 

“I’m going to hang out with you. Catra might not even be there.” 

“You left your laptop open, and Catra’s instagram post about planning to go to this party was on it.” 

Adora flips her off, which is rare of her, but probably warranted. 

“I’m just saying, Adora. You shouldn’t keep chasing after her. “

“I’m _not!”_

“Sweetie...”

Adora turns away and packs her red clutch with militant efficiency. 

“You could call her; you could invite her out to get coffee and catch up. It’s been a year and a half. That’s moving-on-time.” 

“She doesn’t want a call from me,” Adora dismisses. “Now-- Glimmer, where was that tube of lip gloss? I want to put it in my bag.” 

“Here. Don’t lose it.” 

“I won’t.”

Glimmer turns back to the mirror and checks that her own dress-- lavender, lightly sparkly, thigh-short and skin-tight except for the swoopy bodice-- is still laying nicely against her body. She looks good. _She’s_ not trying to impress anyone she isn’t already dating, though.

“C’mon,” Glimmer says. “Get us both a glass of water; it’s probably best to start out with one. We’ll wait downstairs for Bow.” 

They drink their water and they wait.

Bow arrives in style. His lavender shirt matches Glimmer’s dress, because they’re disgustingly cute like that. Adora sighs. 

“Adora, we could _all_ stay home,” Bow contributes; Adora ignores him and stomps around to the back seat of the car without a word. 

“She’s getting angry,” Glimmer says, while she and Bow are still standing in the house and Adora is out of earshot. 

“To be honest, I think half her reaction now is just about us making a deal out of it,” Bow says. “She doesn’t like people trying to _help,_ you know? Besides, lots of people totally handle meeting their exes at a party.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Glimmer says, and puts her hand on Bow’s arm while he leads her to the passenger door. 

Scorpia’s party is _bursting_ with people in beautiful outfits. Scorpia herself is resplendently dressed in a black number; she’s wearing a crimson boa. It might have looked ridiculous, but she’s _Scorpia,_ and she pulls it off delightfully. 

Glimmer, for a second, regrets not letting Adora have the red lipstick, but it’s not like Adora can’t outshine the room in--

Whoops, that was a little gay, she thinks, and snuggles up to Bow. (It’s not like they haven’t discussed the attractiveness of their mutual friend before, so she’s in the clear.) But Adora is pretty, and against her will, Glimmer finds herself wanting Catra to show up and see what the fuck she’s missing. 

“Have fun out there,” Glimmer says. “Go get a drink. You deserve it.” 

“Thanks, Glim,” Adora says, and beelines for the bar. She’s always been more comfortable at parties where she has clear knowledge of what to do: at the bar sipping a drink, or perhaps _being spun around the dance floor by Catra--_

And now that dance floors are out, it’s down to the bar and a drink with low enough alcohol content that Adora will be able to have many before the night’s out. 

Catra shows up fashionably late to every party she attends. It’s luck (or deep, sincere knowledge of Catra) that has Adora lounging, holding a drink, looking composed, staring at the door when Catra walks in with Entrapta’s hand on her arm. 

She’s. 

Stunning. 

As always. Black and maroon, that’s the combination for today; her bowtie is undone and her hair tastefully tousled. The number of buttons undone on her shirt is less tasteful and more--

Hell, Adora can’t even think ‘whorish’ about Catra in her head; it’s not true. The outfit is _incredibly sexy._ Catra knows what she’s doing. 

But wait a _fucking_ minute. 

Catra steps into the room, and Adora pushes herself off the bar, leaving her full drink behind. (RIP, drink, you will not be drunk again.) She walks over to Catra; her skirt swishes around her knees and her high heels enhance her posture. 

(Glimmer stops dancing with Bow and bats at his arm to look.)

And Adora stops in the middle of the floor, in front of a woman-- her _ex--_ she hasn’t seen in months, and says, “Catra, is that my shirt?”

...

_Three hours ago_

Catra zips Scorpia’s black dress over her _beautifully_ muscled back. “This was a good find, Scorp.”

“Thanks! You look good too, Wildcat. The color of that shirt is incredible.” 

“Thanks. I got it--”

Huh. 

Catra was going to throw out the store, knowing Scorpia liked to know such things, but she can’t remember, actually.

Where _did_ she get this?

“Oh! It was Adora’s, right?”

Catra _doesn’t_ flinch at Scorpia cheerfully naming her ex. “What? Oh. Yeah, you’re right, I think.”

“Must have been nice. Wearing your girlfriend’s shirt.” 

Catra chuckles a little at the wistfulness in Scorpia’s voice. “You’ll find someone, you dork. Well, I’m not going to change now.”

“Really?”

“Well, is it like Adora’s going to be at the party? She never went to these things by choice. I was always the one dragging her to them.” 

“Ohh.” 

“Yeah. But it’s fine. Okay, you’re all set. Go host, beautiful. I’ll go pick up Entrapta and make sure she’s totally free of motor oil before we arrive.”

“Thanks, Catra. You’re the best.”

Catra winks and trots off, her thumbs tucked into her pockets. She catches sight of herself in a mirror. Yeah, she looks good.

Entrapta is, to no-one’s surprise, not ready for the event when Catra shows up at her door. Not to worry. 

“Ready to pamper?” Catra says, flinging the door open. Entrapta’s head snaps up. 

“Is that Adora’s shirt?”

Catra’s jaw drops, then she laughs. “Jeez, ‘trapta. I didn’t even remember until Scorpia reminded me.” 

“The fit is different,” Entrapta explains, and oh, maybe that’s why it opens better over Catra’s cleavage than usual. Maybe Catra should ask Adora where she buys--

Maybe Catra should have asked Adora where she bought her shirts a year and a half ago. 

Catra shakes herself free of the thoughts, and walks up to Entrapta. “Got your outfit?”

It’s a purple-and-white jumpsuit-- very cute, very Entrapta, and just slightly off-brand from the usual ‘tight dresses with side slits’ fare that everyone else is going to be bringing to the party. Entrapta nods and says, “Give me five minutes to change.” 

Catra braids Entrapta’s hair into two braids, and then it’s time for them to sit at the table with Entrapta’s egg timer as they plan out being perfectly fashionably late. (Who knows which of the two of them were the first to bring out an egg timer for a party? Not Catra, and though Entrapta must, she won’t tell.) 

“Why are you wearing Adora’s shirt? I thought you gave all her clothes back.” 

“I thought I did. I must have missed one.”

“Are you going to give this one back?”

“What, right now?” Catra laughs. “I don’t speak to her, Entrapta. Haven’t since the breakup.” 

“What if she’s at the party?”

Unbidden, Catra imagines a circumstance where they’re _dancing together again and Adora brings her home and the shirt is given back to Adora by way of ending up on Adora’s floor..._

Catra says, “She won’t be.” 

“Okay,” Entrapta says. “Ten more minutes!” 

...

“Catra, is that my shirt?”

Time has frozen to this moment. People are looking around. To know Scorpia is to have known the shining star couple of a year and a half ago; to know Scorpia is also to know you don’t talk about Catra&Adora. 

This is the first words they’ve said to each other in how long?

“Yeah,” Catra says. 

“Could I get it back?” Adora says. 

“Right now?” Catra asks, and shrugs, and reaches for the next lowest button like she’s prepared to take it off right _here._

But Adora doesn’t

But Adora doesn’t _stop her_

Are they playing chicken? Catra-undressing chicken? Is Catra prepared to strip right here, right at Scorpia’s party?

No wonder they broke up; they are, as always, a disaster in the process of happening. 

Catra unbuttons the button. 

Adora waits until the button has fully left its buttonhole, and then says, _“Catra.”_

“What?” Catra asks, letting her fingertips drift lower. 

“You could just _say_ you missed me...”

“Oh, this is _not_ because I like you,” Catra says. 

How many of these partygoers-- the ones wondering, perhaps, if either Catra or Adora are sober right now (yes to both)-- know that that phrase is _special?_ How many of their voyeurs know that Catra meant-- had meant-- used to mean-- _this is because I love you?_

Adora--

Reaches forward-- 

And buttons the button. 

.

.

_“Can I have this dance?”_

.

.

If Adora asked Glimmer and Bow to leave _right now,_ they’d both do it, no questions asked. 

Scratch that. Bow and Glimmer are actually standing together, wondering why Adora isn’t coming to them and asking to leave. 

“We should just have some fun,” Glimmer says. 

“She’ll come to us if she needs us,” Bow says. 

Neither one moves. 

...

“Wait-shit-hold-on,” Adora pants, as they stop in the biting night air. “I’m texting Glim I’m leaving.” 

Adora fumbles open her clutch, and Catra loops her arms around Adora’s neck and rests her chin on Adora’s shoulder, caging in Adora’s search for her phone. Adora gets the phone-- “Aha”-- fires off a text-- Catra, too impatient, snaps Adora’s clutch closed and slides Adora’s phone into her own pocket. Adora’s had a single drink at half its usual alcohol content; Catra’s had none, and she’s free to slide into the drivers’ seat of the same car she and Entrapta came in and peel away into the yellow streetlights. 

Adora plays with Catra’s fingers on the stick shift and Catra, whenever she isn’t changing gears, curls her hand into Adora’s. “I should tell Scorpia that I’m leaving Entrapta alone.”

“Gimme your phone.” 

“It’s password protec--” 

Adora’s already sent the text. 

...

The shirt ends up not on Adora’s but on Catra’s floor, and so, for that matter, does the dress. And the bowtie. And Catra’s slacks. Both their phones. Adora’s clutch. Various undergarments. 

“How did you know my phone password?”

“Nice pillow talk, babe,” Adora says into Catra’s neck.

“First of all, this is hate sex, don’t call me babe.” 

“Mhm. You changed your password to my phone’s password.” 

Catra groans. 

“Is it really hate sex?”

“I dunno, do you hate me?”

“No,” Adora giggles. “Do you hate me?”

“You know I can’t.” 

...

**1 msg from adora**

dont wait up glim 

**15 msg from glimmer**

Are you leaving?

Who are you leaving with??

Ok i know your’e’ gone

Im guessing youre with Catra

Are you sober?

Are you having sex with your ex? 

ADORA

ANSWER YOUR DAMN PHONE

Catra’s quickly becomign a murder suspect

Hey

Dumbass

Answer

Your 

Fuckin g

Phone

**1 msg from adora**

Shut the fuck up sparkles you’re ruining the afterglow with you gofdman text notifications also she was sober dw --CATRA

...

Three days later, Adora puts a flannel over a faded band tee and heads for the door. 

“Adora, darling, where are you going?” Glimmer demands. 

“Coffee with Catra.” 

“Coffee. You. Your ex.” 

“Well, yeah, but we had sex three days ago, so I don’t know if she’s going to be my ex for much longer.” 

“Adora--”

“Love ya, Glim,” Adora says. “Don’t wait up.” 

She leaves. 

(The flannel ends up in Catra’s possession, somehow, and how lucky Adora was wearing a tee shirt.)

* * *

[ART of Adora, Glimmer, Catra, and Entrapta's outfits (on my tumblr)](https://sabriel-writes.tumblr.com/post/624751817239216128/heres-a-quick-sketchy-outfit-edit-of-princess)

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first romantically-focused story I've written since realizing I was aromantic (and ace) which is good! 
> 
> It's also a thematic departure from literally everything else I write. (Have written? Maybe I can write romance/mentions of sex now that I'm not Afraid of it??) Woo fun!!
> 
> The other thing that I don't normally do but I did here-- I just... refused to explain some things. I wrote down some shit that would make a good story n then stopped. Past-me would have got caught up on how Adora and Catra's breakup happened-- Now-me is not; do not ask me bc I have no idea who broke up with who and why. (Whoops, I showed my hand, but what the hell it's not like some of you aren't going to appreciate this Writing Process Lore.)


End file.
